


Liquid Confidence

by phangirlingforphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Smut, Party, Reality, TATINOF, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phangirlingforphan/pseuds/phangirlingforphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final bows have been taken, the curtains have closed and the bittersweet taste of the tour ending is soon replaced by one too many cocktails. Through their drunken hazes, they end up alone together, reminiscing on the old days and laughing in awe at this crazy life they have. And then Phil is kissing Dan and it’s not so funny anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Confidence

i.

When people ask Dan if he’s achieved his dreams he says no, because he doesn’t know what his dream truly is or ever was, but he’s happy and excited to see where things are going.

It always feels like a monotone, slightly predictable, answer but it’s always been the truth.

YouTube had never been the plan; it sort of just happened. Spontaneity isn’t a bad thing, he started to realise, and a lot of his decisions in life had been made on impulse. Lucky for him, there wasn’t one he regretted. At least, not yet.

He’s stood across the room from Phil, surrounded by friends, accepting shots of spirits he can hardly pronounce and hearing the words ‘congratulations on the tour!’ so often that they’re blending into one syllable.

The cocktails based on their aesthetics had been a joke at the time the idea had been spoken, yet he found himself seeking solace in his black drink, swirling it around the glass and watching the dark tequila mix with the espresso. The hint of vanilla essence added to the recipe was his own personal joke that he might have the slightest hint of something sweet and colourful in his personality.

His is an acquired taste; bitter and strong. Meanwhile, Phil’s is the most popular drink. The majority of people are holding their violent blue cocktails and it makes Dan happy. Phil couldn’t have chosen a better drink, with it’s sweet syrupy contents and kick of vodka; it quite honestly is Phil in drink form.

He downs the remnants of his cocktail and asks for a Phil this time because he needs something uplifting.

There’s a strange, bittersweet melancholy that comes with ending the tour. A new city every day was something he’d become accustomed to, as was spending every free moment he had rehearsing and going over lines with Phil.

He spends every day of his life with Phil, however, the tour felt different and more intimate. They shared hotel rooms together, twinned beds almost touching, he got to witness Phil fall asleep every night and Phil got to watch him wake up every morning. It wasn't a new occurrence or anything of that sort, he’s watched Phil fall asleep plenty of times on sofas and during car journeys, but there was something special about those moments on tour.

It was 2am hazes, drunk on lack of sleep, his speech getting softer and more slurred as minutes dragged by, eyelids fluttering and struggling until he couldn’t take another second. There were a couple of nights that Phil fell asleep reading his book, and Dan would bite his lip to stifle fond laughter at the sight of his best friend face-first, slumped over and using his book as a pillow.

He’d pry the book carefully from Phil’s hands, remove Phil’s glasses and tuck the duvet further up his body. Phil would then languidly sink into the bed with a grunt as a ‘thank-you.’

One night, Dan had leant in and nearly kissed his forehead.

He blamed his sleep-deprived state for the thought.

It was nothing.

ii.

He takes a sip from his cocktail and glances across at Phil, he’s mingling with a few people and laughing and nodding at what they’re saying. It makes Dan feel warm seeing Phil let loose and enjoy himself. They’re not regular drinkers by any means, let alone party-goers, so they’ve always felt somewhat out of place at large events and alcohol becomes a sort of liquid confidence.

One gulp down and Dan decides to go over. This is their party, after all.

His stomach feels like it’s in knots with every step.

“Hey,” Dan says, reaching Phil who’s in conversation with Louise, “Figured I should talk to more people.”

For some reason, he felt like he needed an excuse.

“Hello, oh I’m so proud of you both!” Louise crows, looking positively enthralled.

It’s then that she produces a digital camera and records a clip for a vlog.

“Is it okay if I record?” she asks, her finger poised over the record button.

“Go ahead!” Phil says, “Just make it quick, we’re so awkward in vlogs!”

Dan likes the way Phil says we.

The moment involves her squeezing both their faces and gushing to them about how proud she is. There’s no fakery with Louise; what you see is what you get and what you do get is a person who truly cares and is as animated as she seems in her videos.

“You can use us in the thumbnail, now, we can get you loads of views.” Dan jokes, winking.

Louise snorts, “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“People do that, though,” Phil chimes in, “It’s quite weird, we’ll be in someone’s vlog at Vidcon or something for about ten seconds and then we’re in the thumbnail.”

“It’s the way YouTube works,” Dan shrugs, “Gotta get that promo.”

Phil just sighs.

“Oh, the tragic lives of you famous people,” Louise says sarcastically, holding a hand to her heart.

Dan rolls his eyes, derisive. “Now you’re the funny one.”

“You know it, matey!” she grins, “Anyway, I’ve got a few other people I wanted to see, so I’ll speak to you two lovely boys again later!”

It’s left as just the two of them in a corner of a room. Phil giggles.

“What?” Dan asks.

“Nothing, nothing.” he insists, waving a hand dismissively.

“No, come on, tell me. It’s so annoying when you do this.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I do it, it winds you up, it’s fun.”

Phil bumps his shoulder against Dan’s, “Okay Captain Frown-face, I’ll tell you what I was thinking.”

“It’s just funny,” Phil says, “It’s our own party, and here we are, stood together in the corner of the room, away from all the other people.”

“Like always at these sorts of things, then.”

“Precisely.”

Dan takes a swig of his drink. Liquid confidence again. “It’s good, though,” he says quietly, “I, um, I wouldn’t want it any other way, to, um, be honest.”

Phil doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, me neither, Dan.”

In the moment of comfortable silence that follows, there’s a shared feeling of a warmth.

“Shall we mingle and be good hosts again?”

“Sure thing.”

Phil’s hand rests at Dan’s back when they walk away and weave through the small gatherings. It feels like normality.

iii.

The night is wearing on, people are dancing underneath fluorescent, pulsing lights, the bass music throbbing through them in time with their bodies.

Dan’s on his sixth cocktail, Phil is at the bar ordering another, and Louise has asked him to dance for the umpteenth time.

“Come on, Dan, just one dance, please?” she pleads.

“Louise, seriously, I am too awkward for this.”

She pouts. “You’re no fun.”

“Have you just realised that?”

“Oh seriously, Dan, I’m not asking for much.”

“Will it get you to shut up if I do?”

She nods furiously. “Absolutely.”

Dan’s dance moves consist of standing on the spot and clicking his fingers a lot. With Louise, he can easily twirl her every now and again, but Louise has better moves than him. She’s fluid, she makes it look effortless. He, on the other hand, is Bambi.

“You’re rubbish at this,” she complains. “Loosen up, Dan!”

“I told you I don’t dance.” he points out, “I don’t know what you expected from me.”

“It’s exasperating, what can I do with you - OH, PHIL, PHIL COME HERE!” she waves at Phil, beckoning him over.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dan hisses.

She ignores him completely, “Phil, dance!”

“Oh my god.”

She’s kidding. She has to be kidding.

Phil ambles over, shaking his hips as he comes, and Louise roars into laughter. “See, Dan, that’s how you dance!”

He hates how good Phil looks when he does that.

“I don’t want to get my shirt sweaty.” he tries.

“You and your bloody designer clothes. It’s only a shirt, I’m sure Alexander McKing won’t mind.”

“McQueen”

“I don’t care!” Louise exclaims, “Dance with Phil!”

Phil’s drunk, and drunk Phil from Dan’s memory oozes confidence. He’s not getting out of this.

“Give us a twirl, Dan.” someone heckles from the bar. Dan flips them off in response.

“Yeah, Dan, give us a twirl.” giggles Phil, grabbing at Dan’s arm and forcing him into one.

“You’re drunk,” Dan mutters into Phil’s ear after he’s finished spinning.

Phil takes him by surprise then, his arm snaking around Dan’s waist and thrusting him right up against his own body.

“Your point?” Phil asks. Hot, alcohol saturated breath washes across Dan’s face.

Beneath the coloured lights, Phil’s eyes are a kaleidoscope of shades of blue that Dan wants to count. Phil’s arm tightly around his waist. They’re swaying. Phil’s giving him a look he hasn’t seen since 2009.

His jeans feel tighter. It’s too warm in here. When did it get so warm he wants to get out he needs to get the fuck out.

“I need some air,” he chokes out. Phil releases his grip instantly, dropping his arm and sobering as quickly as he got drunk.

“Okay,” Phil nods, “We’ll get out. Come on. You’re okay.”

They’re hand in hand when Phil steers him out the double doors and into the courtyard.

Dan doesn’t want to ever let go.

iv.

They sit on a bench and Dan is squeezing Phil’s hand.

“Are you alright?” Phil murmurs.

“I’m not sure.”

It’s then that he realises he’s still holding Phil’s hand and he jerks it away, jumping up and pacing along the gravelled area in front of them.

He rolls his shirt sleeves up, revelling in the cold air against his sticky, feverish skin, and tilts his head back. Stars are scattered everywhere. There aren’t many places you can see them in London.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? Dan, it’s me.”

He’s right. It’s Phil. His best friend. It shouldn’t be this hard.

“You know, I’ve spent my whole life trying to create something worth it. Something that people will remember,” Dan says and squints up at the stars, “And I have. I’ve done more than I ever could have imagined, y’know, this tour has been incredible and the book and everything, but,” his gaze drops to his hands, “but I still feel like there’s this one thing that’s missing and I don’t know what that is.”

“Except I sort of do know,” he adds as an afterthought. He sits back down beside Phil.

Maybe it’s his alcohol intake or maybe it’s the way the moonlight is falling across Phil’s face, but the words are going to fall off of his tongue and he can’t be bothered to stop them.

His eyes dart back to Phil.

He’s giving him that look again.

“You look at me sometimes in this way that I can’t describe and I don’t know what it means.”

Phil looks away. He misses his eyes already.

“I can’t believe it’s over, the tour and everything, I mean,” Dan says. “Although we’re going to America next year, and then probably Australia and Asia and all these other countries.”

“It’s crazy, I agree,” Phil says, “Did you ever expect this to be our life? I swear it was only yesterday we lived in that dingy flat in Manchester.”

“Ah, the Manchester flat, right opposite a high-security prison.” Dan laughs.

Phil laughs back. “It wasn’t much, I know, but it was where it all started, really. We both rocketed in terms of our careers living there, it was amazing.”

“And then we took the leap and moved to good ol’ London.”

“Yeah, we moved in, had no money because we’d just bought a load of furniture, and all our food was tinned macaroni and beans, and we realised that night we didn’t even own a tin opener.”

“And we couldn’t afford one.”

“So we used the - “

“Cordless hammer drill,” they both say in sync, falling into fits of laughter. Dan’s bent double, chuckling to the night sky, his breath fogging in front of him.

This is what he loves about being best friends with Phil. It’s so fucking easy. He can say anything and be anyone and Phil is the nicest person in the world and would never judge him. Phil is easy. Phil is absolutely everything.

They’re laughing next to each other, reminiscing on this journey they both never want to end, knowing that there’s still so much ahead and harbouring this equally terrifying but exciting anxiety about it all and sure it won’t always be easy but it’ll be worth every second.

And then Phil’s kissing him.

And Dan isn’t stopping him.

Tequila and vodka stained breath, puckered lips rough and fervent against each other, hands in hair and underneath shirts.

He’s had dreams about this moment; what it would be like, where they’d be, how Phil would taste and if it would be soft and sweet or desperate and heavy.

Phil’s the one who pulls away first.

“We should go back to the party.” Phil’s saying before Dan can get a word out.

“Phil,” Dan manages to stutter.

“Everyone’s probably wondering where we are.”

Dan’s bewildered when he watches Phil spring up from the bench and make a leeway to the party again.

“Are you kidding? You can’t just fucking kiss me like that, Phil and pretend - ”

“I’m not pretending!” Phil interrupts loudly, “This isn’t the time, Dan!”

“So, what? I have to go back in there now and act like I’m fine?” Dan jumps up, too, a hand on his hip. “Phil this is ridiculous!”

“Please, Dan!” Phil all but implores, he throws his hands up, “I need you to do this for me. We’ll talk. I promise.” A deep sigh and then, “Please.”

“Fine.”

“Thanks.” comes Phil’s terse response.

Tension and anger between him and Phil isn’t an occurrence he’s used to; it leaves a sour taste in his mouth that definitely isn’t because of the alcohol.

v.

During the taxi ride home, they may as well be strangers.

Dan’s cursing himself. His heart hurts and Phil isn’t going to be a relief for that. He gives himself away so easily, pieces of his soul and feelings flitted away because he gets that stupid, futile hope that maybe somebody will keep the pieces and want the rest of him.

He’s been giving bits of himself to Phil for years. Once, he gave everything he had to Phil and Phil gave everything back; until they started watching each other fall and hit the ground.

When the taxi pulls up, he throws a twenty over the seat to the driver and mutters a thank you.

They silently enter their flat, not a single glance shared between them.

Phil is heading to his bedroom.

Is he fucking kidding?

He doesn’t give a shit anymore, why should he? He’s so tired and fed up of tiptoeing around the same argument. There’s still alcohol in his system and its got to be helping.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Dan spits, “Are you going to ignore this happened?”

Phil hesitates in his doorway, his hand flexes at his side. “What do you want me to say?”

“Uh, how about, oh I don’t know, why the fuck you kissed me?”

“I don’t know, Dan!”

“Right. Thank you, that’s really great, Phil. Let’s do that thing again where something happens between us and we ignore it, I mean that always ends up going well doesn’t it? Can you give me a real answer, Phil?”

Thirty seconds pass. Phil still hasn’t said anything back.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Dan whispers, turning his back on Phil. The gesture feels symbolic, somehow.

They’ll go on and act like this never happened. They’ll continue to fight against feelings they’re too cowardly to act upon until one day they’ll apart so hard that they’ll never fit together the same away again.

“Dan, please.”

He sounds so broken.

“What, Phil?”

Dan turns. Phil is right in front him.

“I think you know.”

They’re so damn close.

The next words he says are barely audible. He’s unsure if he even says them or if Phil what he does next just because.

“Show me.”

Phil has Dan up against a wall. Searing kisses being pressed to his neck, to his collarbones, travelling down his chest as his shirt his unbuttoned with such vigour that it might rip. Thoughts of it being expensive are seemingly forgotten when Dan tosses it to the floor.

“It’s nice to see your neck is still a g-spot. Even after all these years.” Phil says. Dan can hear the smugness dripping from his voice.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dan says back through a series of gasps. “Although, you always were good with your mouth.”

Phil smirks, taking his free hand and unbuttoning Dan’s jeans with it. He teases his fingers around the thin fabric separating him from Dan’s cock and revels in the deep moan Dan gives as a reaction.

“I’m good at a lot of things if you fancy finding out.” He winks. Liquid confidence.

It’s the easiest yes Dan’s given all year.

vi.

Phil’s hands are in his hair, their clothes are on Phil’s floor, the lights are out, the moon spreads an ethereal glow upon their bare skin.

Every look Phil gives Dan is just for him. Their bodies move together, hot skin touching, kisses are desperate but genuine, he craves every single bit of Phil. Tangled up between the sheets. Coming undone in front of someone and letting his walls down isn’t easy for Dan, but there’s something about the way Phil holds him while they fuck, the soft kisses on his cheeks and his thighs, he’s gentle and sweet, this means something, this isn’t just another fuck this is real. This is important.

Dan won’t ever forget this. They’ve done this before - fucked and forgotten - but this feels different to all those other times. They’re too old to play games now. If Phil wants him, he can have him, every single atom of his being is Phil’s and he won’t regret giving himself away.

The lights are out yet it’s so plainly obvious and bright.

He’s in love.

They’re in love.

vii.

Dan ambles into the kitchen the next morning wearing nothing but one of Phil’s shirts that falls to the middle of his thighs.

Phil’s grinning sleepily and pouring hot water into two coffee mugs and Dan’s pretty sure he can smell toast.

“Hey,” he says shyly. He’s almost blushing.

“Good morning,” Phil replies. Dan’s happy to see Phil’s being coy, too.

When Phil looks at Dan, his grin doesn’t falter, it only grows. “I like you in my shirt,” he says.

“I like wearing your shirt.”

“Maybe you should more often then.”

“Maybe.”

Dan laughs. It’s a real laugh, a happy, almost incredulous laugh accompanied with a smile so big that it hurts his face.

“What?” Phil asks, wearing the same smile.

“I think you know.”

“I do,” he admits, he goes to Dan and wraps his arms around his waist, “But I want to hear you say it anyway.”

“I can’t.”

Phil’s smile drops. “Why not?”

“Because the toast is burning.”

“Oh, shit!”

Dan cackles as he watches Phil fumble with the toaster, retrieving the charcoal pieces of bread.

His eyes narrow at them. “I…um…made you breakfast?” Phil tries, holding two thumbs up.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll make cereal instead.”

Phil sighs, “Fine, I can accept defeat. The bowls are in the top cupboard by the way.”

He should have seen in coming.

Dan stretches up to reach the cupboard and hears a “there it is.” come from Phil.

“Oi, stop staring at my naked ass!”

Phil couldn’t look more pleased with himself. “It’s a good ass,” he says simply.

“You definitely said that last night, too.”

viii.

“Did you want to talk about last night?” Phil asks. They’re sat on the sofa, fully dressed after eating breakfast and one of them needed to approach the topic eventually.

“We have to, definitely,” Dan says. He turns to face Phil, crossing his legs. “Where do you want to start?”

Phil copies Dan’s posture, “I’m sorry about kissing you so…abruptly.”

“If you’d asked, I’d have said yes, so, either way, I was never going to be annoyed about it.”

“Still, kissing someone like that without consent or anything isn’t great, so I am sorry.”

Dan shrugs, “It’s fine, I promise. I’m more wanting to talk about what made you do it.”

“It was an impulse, but the sentiments towards it weren’t.”

“I know. And I’m glad you did it. And I’m glad we um,” Dan coughs, “You know, last night.”

“Twenty-four and you still can’t say ‘fucked’ like when you were eighteen. It’s adorable.”

Dan throws a cushion at him, “Fuck off.”

“Sorry, sorry, anyway, I’m very glad we did too, obviously.”

“It felt different to the times before. It felt like it meant more.”

“That’s because it did.” Phil shuffles forward and takes one of Dan’s hands, “When I was at University, I slept around a bit, but then a lot of people did that, and they never really meant more than one night stands. It’s when I met you that my thoughts on it changed. Sure, University was fun, but I want more than just fun. It’s not just a casual fuck. It has to be important.”

“Last night was definitely not a casual fuck.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was…” Phil trails off, chewing his lip for lack of a word.

“You love me.” Dan supplies.

The words have been said. There’s no taking them back.

Phil raises his eyebrows and gives a shaky laugh; the brazen and straightforwardness of Dan’s answer surprising him in the best way.

“And you love me.”

“Then I suppose we’re even.”

“It’s like,” Dan starts again, “I’ve always loved you, even through our shitty times a few years back when we just messed about and didn’t know what we were doing, on some level I always loved you and always knew there was nobody else I’d go through all of this for.”

“I’m just sorry it’s taken this long for us to get to where we are now,” Phil admits sheepishly.

Dan just shrugs, “It’s okay, it was going to happen one day anyway. I believe in all that fate stuff.”

“Me too.”

“So uh, what are we?”

Phil chuckles, “I feel like I’m 16 again, I was never good at this sort of stuff.”

“I’ve never been good at much full stop, especially when it comes to you. I know I love you, though, that’s something I’m quite good at, I guess.”

“That’s good then,” Phil replies, his voice growing softer, “because I love you too.”

Dan closes the gap between them with a kiss. He loves that he can just do that now.

Saying the three words was always something Dan thought would be terrifying. Thinking them and replaying them in your head is easy. There’s no commitment until you say it out loud.

Yet, now he’s said them to Phil, he wonders why he was always so scared. It’s simple. Screw needing liquid confidence or grand gestures or any of that bullshit. They love each other and there’s absolutely nothing terrifying about that.

\- Fin

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on my Tumblr, too, (same URL), and I figured I should start using AO3 more so here I am!  
> Hope you enjoyed and leave comments/kudos if you fancy it! - Lily.


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